Tag Archives: heartbreak

Well it’s over. You survived. Santa came and went. The savior you were waiting for arrived. But was it everything you expected it to be?It was another picture perfect holiday scenescape here in beautiful Los Angeles, California. The weather showed a delightful eighty one degree high in the forecast.

photo courtesy of Steven Swimmer

I awoke to the sunshine. It’s not something out of the ordinary here. It’s appreciated but…

It wasn’t as picturesque inside as it was outside. For living in a fairy tale, it wasn’t exactly a fairy tale.

And I wasn’t the only one experiencing that unfortunately.

I saw update after update on social networks with happiness and cheer. It’s the holiday season and I live in a picturesque movie town amongst the most brilliantly spectacular people in the country.

Or at least I’d like to believe that.

How could anyone feel anything but festive on this most joyous day? Well unfortunately there were the other messages. The messages that reading a piece of your heart broke with them a little bit.

Of friends and family apart.

Of lovers lost.

Of abandonment.

Of “Ebenezer Scrooges.”

Hardened hearts in the most spectacularly vibrant people on the planet. Obliterated but doing their best to just get through the day.

This year I took the path of a single mother. And, while I wasn’t alone entirely and I had plenty of offers to do things with friends just as I did that day I had him, I was… very alone.

Remember when I told you in my last post about the separation that happened back in February of 2008? According to the “*current order” it’s not my year to have my children for this holiday. (Yes, holiday. I’m not particularly religious despite/because of years of Catholic schooling and teachings.) Nonetheless I was supposed to have a Skype call with my children to celebrate the day together. I planned the entire day around it -turning down several offers to go out that would potentially interfere.

So I waited with great anticipation… it was my version of waiting for Santa to come on Christmas morning.

It didn’t happen…

You would think I might be used to this stuff by now..

Reel back to a few days prior when I posted to my private social network about my eldest son not behaving the greatest enough to make me question giving him coal.

(I didn’t by the way.)

And I thought about my ex husband and my children.

And why the call likely didn’t happen.

And why I wasn’t there with my eldest as he opened gifts earlier that morning.

About the fighting with my father on Christmas Eve because of differences in parenting styles.

About how my eldest believes the world revolves around gifts.

About how my other children believe the same.

About the comments calling me “negative” and picking at my lack of religion or beliefs in Santa and the otherwise commercial version of this so called picturesque holiday of “goodwill towards your fellow man” and “cheer.”

I had a couple of friends offer to have a few drinks with me in celebration and “bah humbug’ing” this abysmal reality of a day.

That didn’t happen either.

Thousands of miles away two of my children were living a lie. Sure there were likely tons of gifts and warm home made cooking to go with the “Leave it to Beaver” Christian lifestyle my ex believes he is currently giving my children. A similar smaller version could be said with my oldest son at my father’s.

The posts kept coming.

Presents and joy.

Happy families gathered around piles and piles of presents and food.

The friends who were also “orphans” drinking their cares away.

The friends without children going to dedicated “orphan” outtings.

The friend who ended up at the beach.

The friend who joined another family of friends for their meal.

The friends who went to the movies together.

And then there was me.

I could have gone and done a bunch of things.

So why didn’t I?

This isn’t a completely sad movie. Earlier that day I had some very positive conversations. My oldest son called me and told me he’d missed me that morning. We talked about the differences in how his grandfather and I parent and about his newest little brother. And while it wasn’t perfect, it made me smile. My children are my heart. This year has been all about reuniting with them. Little by little there have been some major steps of progression towards this this year.

And then there was something else entirely.

My grandparents aren’t doing very well. There are several health issues going on that… will likely lead me back to Illinois very soon to see them. My family fears these may be their last days.

On the last phone calls I have not been able to speak with my grandmother. Her health and the timing of the calls has prevented it.

I got to talk to her yesterday however.

not taken yesterday

It snowed. The house was full of visiting family- my sister and her daughter and my uncle and his daughters. I laughed as she scolded my grandfather and told him he couldn’t drink wine (an Italian must at the table) because it would not be good with his current pills.

I listened as I could tell her face was glowing as she regaled about how my cousins closer in proximity were picking up art. And she asked me about my newborn.

“Does he look like you?”

“I’ll send you a picture. He’s little like me. We’d like to visit soon. I’m worried about you. Will you even have the strength to hold him when we get there?”

We spoke about the argument with my oldest son. About her son and me differing on our versions of respecting ones elders. About how because of the argument we were not able to see each other that morning.

“It sounds like you can have some quiet time with the new baby then. That doesn’t sound like a bad day at all.”

Suddenly the rest of the day didn’t matter. The other things making me blue didn’t matter.

At least for that moment.

She was right. In the simplest of all things she was ever so right.

Our phone call got cut short due to some technical difficulty. I thought I would end up calling her back and telling her that the line had dropped. I never ended up doing so. I had the Skype call coming up and needed to tend to that.

But even after that phone call no show, and the blue that I felt with that, I know that maybe that little bit was all she was supposed to have done. It was just enough to push me through the rest of the day.

I spoke to friends here and there but essentially kept to myself on Christmas. To me and my newborn, it was just another Wednesday. It wasn’t the most perfect day in our most perfect movie town but, it was real, and that’s ok.

In the real world life, and holidays doesn’t always resemble a movie. That’s just how it is. And you know something? That’s alright. Even if you live in a movie town. It’s alright.